


Did It Hurt When You Fell?

by ThreeKnivesInAWineGlass



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Faeries - Freeform, M/M, Magic, Magical Realism, Soulmates, and a version of, that's fairys but spelled better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 12:15:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18010736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeKnivesInAWineGlass/pseuds/ThreeKnivesInAWineGlass
Summary: He’s not sure what he expects, but it’s not the velvety texture that he finds, and it certainly isn’t the feeling of his fingers pressing against something tangible.Holy shit. Are faeries actually real?





	Did It Hurt When You Fell?

**Author's Note:**

> Presently a one shot but likely to be developed further at some point.
> 
> Author’s disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The characters I write about are based off of real people but are by no means intended to represent real people; the personalities I write are inferred from public personas and should not be taken as accurate portrayals of their real world counterparts.
> 
> I’ve been around enough to see people confusing fiction with reality, so before you read my story, I implore you to recognize these as characters, not celebrities. Please don’t project what you read in stories onto real people. Please respect real people.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy my fic.

Minghao’s mom had always warned him about climbing trees, saying that if he was going to do it then he’d better watch his footing and make sure he didn’t fall. She wasn’t keen on taking Minghao to the emergency room anywhere near as often as Mingyu’s dad had to take him - which was quite often.

The easy response that Minghao shot back each time was “Of course, I’ll be careful.” And he was. Or, well, he was in his childhood. Today, however, as a mature adult climbing his favorite tree at the far corner of the park, he isn’t as careful as he was when he was fifteen. He’s climbed the old oak so many times since he first found it a year ago that he doesn’t have to think about which branches can take his weight anymore. At least, he thought he didn’t.

There’s been a big fuss about beetles killing trees in the area lately, but it never crossed Minghao’s mind that his dear inanimate friend could have been a victim until he shifts his weight onto one of its branches only for it to give out under him.

With the shock of actually falling, he doesn’t have time to grab a different branch. The only thing he has time for is anticipating his inevitable collision with the ground … and noticing something sparkle in the corner of his eye before everything goes black.

 

* * *

 

“I can’t believe you, Soonyoung,” Minghao hears an agitated voice muttering. “If he doesn’t wake up and we all get to go home, I will personally see to it that you are confined to the house where you can’t get into trouble!”

Minghao’s head hurts, throbbing dully as if provoked by the annoyance in the stranger’s tone, and he scrunches his face in discomfort.

“Shh, I think you’re upsetting him,” a different voice whispers, followed by yet another voice that coos, “Oh, look at how his nose wrinkles. It looks like a rabbit nose.”

“Not helping, Seokmin,” the first voice deadpans as Minghao forces his eyes open.

He expects sunlight but instead he’s met by the sight of three boys staring down at him, with one of them upside down and much closer. It takes a moment before Minghao registers the way his body is angled, and he realizes that his head is in the lap of the upside down boy, who is not, in fact, upside down, but simply leaning over him.

“Oh, sweet Oberon, he’s awake,” the annoyed voice says, and Minghao connects it to the standing boy with rich brown hair and a distinctly unhappy expression. He doesn’t look very intimidating, but Minghao still feels a cold shiver run down his back.

Minghao isn’t sure what to do. He’s caught between confused, relieved, and alarmed. He’s not dead, so that’s great, but what on earth is happening right now.

He’s saved from having to act just yet by the one whose lap he’s resting on asking, “Are you okay? That was a pretty nasty fall.”

“I’m fine,” Minghao says. He’s honestly not sure if he’s okay, it’s hard to gauge himself when he’s so distracted with trying to understand what’s going on, but staring up at the boy’s worried face, he felt compelled to reassure him. Then, when the boy smiles, something warm that makes Minghao feel like he’s laying out under the sun instead of in the shade, he can’t help asking, “Who are you?”

“I’m Soonyoung,” is the swift answer. Then Soonyoung glances up, directing Minghao’s gaze to the other two boys, as he says, “And that’s Seungkwan and Seokmin.”

The boy with brown hair huffs and crosses his arms over his chest as he glares at Soonyoung. “Really? We’re doing introductions? We could have maybe made an argument for ourselves if we’d kept our anonymity, you know.”

“Don’t be a spoil sport, Seungkwan,” the other boy says, identifying himself as Seokmin as he claps Seungkwan on the shoulder. “This is a happy moment. He’s awake, alive, and well!” He looks down at Minghao then, smiling as he asks, “Right?”

Minghao sits up, surprised when it doesn’t hurt as much as he thought it would. He’s even more surprised when he realizes that his head doesn’t hurt at all anymore, and he lifts a hand to inspect the back of his head, startling slightly when his fingers bump into what must be Soonyoung’s hand in his hair.

The hand retreats, making room for Minghao to poke his own fingers around the area, as Soonyoung leans around his side to look at Minghao as he says, “I did my best to ease the pain. Does it still hurt?”

“No?” Why doesn’t it hurt? It should hurt. Minghao fell out of a tree and flat on his back. He was decently high up, too. It _should_ hurt.

“He looks bad. Is he still injured? Did you do it right?” Seokmin starts rambling. “I told you that  you should let me heal him. You know that I have the strongest magic among the three of us.”

“Woah, wait, what? Magic? What are you talking about?” Minghao asks. He was willing to put off asking questions, was willing to assume the three of them were just weird good samaritans who saw him fall, but the more they talk, the more Minghao feels like something isn’t right with them. Are they actually crazy?

Soonyoung frowns. “Did I not do it right? Didn’t you feel it?” Then the hand is back in Minghao’s hair, fingertips pressing against his scalp as that icy shiver from earlier works its way down his spine.

Minghao lurches away, turning to face Soonyoung as he squawks, “The hell? What did you just do!?”

Sighing loudly, Seungkwan groans, “Titania have mercy, I can’t believe I have to spell it out.” Then he looks at Minghao, saying, “We’re faeries. You know, magic, planes of existence -”

“Fictional,” Minghao interrupts, turning to face him. “Faeries are fictional.”

Seokmin holds up his hands like he’s examining them, then announces, “No, I’m pretty sure I’m real.” He reaches over and pinches Seungkwan’s arm, earning him a slap on his own as he says, “Pretty sure he’s real too.”

Is Minghao actually arguing with crazy people? Oh god, are they lost? Does he need to wander around the park and ask if anyone’s missing the three of them?

“We can prove we’re faeries,” Soonyoung says. “Seokmin, show him your wings.”

Minghao moves to get up and walk away, planning to catch a taxi back to his apartment since he doesn’t want to risk the three following him home. However, he freezes halfway when Seokmin catches his eye. Or rather, the glowing outline of straight up storybook faerie wings behind Seokmin catches his eye.

Those definitely weren’t there a second ago. They can’t be there _now_ though. That would be crazy. Minghao feels like he’s going crazy.

“Do you want to touch them? They’re really soft,” Seokmin offers, taking a hesitant step towards Minghao.

Standing the rest of the way, Minghao stares for a moment before he walks up to Seokmin and slowly reaches out a hand. He’s not sure what he expects, but it’s not the velvety texture that he finds, and it certainly isn’t the feeling of his fingers pressing against something tangible.

Holy shit. Are faeries actually real?

**Author's Note:**

> Art is only complete once it has been witnessed. Want to help finish a story? Leave a comment. If you have a thought after reading a fic, tell the author about it. Comments motivate, inspire, and please us immensely - like a cat getting pats. So spread a little goodness, support your fandom authors and leave a comment to let them know you see their work.


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